Timey Wimey Crimey Fun
by rockwithpeace13
Summary: Sherlock and John bump into the Doctor and Rose whilst investigating a series of strange murders. The Doctor then introduces Sherlock to the world as it really is. Very timey wimey.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all, newbie here. Just posted some changes; hope you don't mind. And thank you for following my story! Did a little happy dance :)  
**

* * *

"For the last time, Sherlock, the fridge is not for you to store your bloody experiments in!"

Sherlock smiled as John bellowed from the kitchen. It had taken John seven seconds longer than usual to finally notice the plate of sheep intestines placed conveniently in front of him; must be a lack of sleep again.

"Not sleeping well again, John?" Sherlock could clearly see the look of annoyance on John's face as he ignored his complaint. John sighed and dumped the bloody remains into the bin. Too tired to argue; definitely lack of sleep. Sherlock looked at the tired figure, contemplating whether to tell him about the alcohol-soaked grapes in the microwave, when he heard the familiar footsteps of Mrs Hudson entering the room. Newly-ironed blouse, purse in hand. Visiting a friend. Bag of candy in other hand. Visiting a friend with children then. She saw John in the act of disposing of the intestines.

"John! What are you doing, throwing away my sheep's intestines? They were a special treat for you boys!" Sherlock smiled yet again, enjoying John's face as he stared first at Mrs Hudson, mouth agape, wondering how sheep's intestines were considered a treat, then at Sherlock as he finally realised that Sherlock had thought the same and tricked him into disposing it for him. John realised his mistake and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs Hudson, I thought it was another one of Sherlock's experiments again," John glared at Sherlock, lounging on the sofa, looking all in the world like the cat who stole the cream.

"Which I suppose was the point." he muttered under his breath.

"But I could drop by at the butcher's to get more, if you'd like."John added quickly, seeing Mrs Hudson's confusion.

"That's sweet, honey, but it really is alright. I'm going to pop by at Jane's, so I'm afraid I won't be home babysitting you two." Mrs Hudson looked at her boys fondly.

"Alright then, you have fun." John said.

"Keep Sherlock out of trouble!" came the reply.

Sherlock picked up his violin.

"You could always get more milk, John." he said innocently, nestling his violin in the crook of his neck. Sherlock glanced at John as he sighed. He rubbed his eyes blearily.

"Might as well. Got nothing else to do here anyway."As John walked down the steps, he listened to the drone of Sherlock' violin. It has only been a short while since he's moved in with the mad genius, and yet it already feels like home. It feels as if he's truly home now.

* * *

John walked down Baker Street. He thought about how his life had changed ever since he met Sherlock. It was never boring. John smiled as he remembered their first encounter. Sherlock had analyzed his whole life in a split second, and as much as John's head was whirling with incredulity about this strange new man, his curiosity was piqued. It was the first time someone didn't treat him differently because of his leg, someone _interesting_.

Suddenly, he heard a commotion on his right. He turned to the noise.

"Come on, Rose, we haven't got all day! Well, technically we do have the whole of space and time, but you get what I mean." A tall man was yelling.

He gave John a peculiar feeling, like something about him didn't quite fit. The man was wearing a full pinstriped suit, with a large brown coat that flapped really dramatically in the wind. He would have cut a rather grand figure, if not for a startlingly bright pair of red Converse shoes. His hair was sticking up wildly in the wind, and a bright smile was plastered on his face.

A woman with blonde hair was running towards the man.

"There's no need to rush!"she shouted back amicably.

Suddenly, the man seemed to have noticed John. He smiled as if he knew John. John's heart quickened. Why was he being acknowledged in such a manner? The man waved wildly at him. John stared in confusion.

"Sorry, do I know you?" John asked. The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's me, the Doctor!" he said, the smile quickly fading from his face. John shook his head slowly, eying the man with suspicion. The man looked at him, his expression unreadable. John suddenly wished Sherlock was here. He would know what to do. Eventually the man nodded quickly.

"Sorry, must've been a mistake. Don't worry about it, just go on and have fun." he said, waving his hands in a shooing gesture. He seemed to want to say something, but kept silent, watching John intently. John realised the woman was running into an alley, where a mysterious blue box was standing. Strange, he's never seen that there before. There was a warm light streaming through its windows, and there, on the top, written in big bold letters were the words: POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX. The image was so bizarre, John wondered if he was dreaming.

Suddenly, the man spoke again.

"Hey, John? Remember the key. The one the nurse gave you." The man's gaze was inscrutable, making John feel uncomfortable.

"What key? What do you mean? How did you know my name? And who are you anyway?"

The man smiled at him.

"I'm the Doctor."

With that, he strode towards the blue box, opened its door and stepped inside. The box then promptly made a sound John will remember for the rest of his life. It was a constant mechanical whirring, so loud, so _alien_. It then proceeded to defy all laws of physics known to John by fading slowly away into non-existence.

Just like that, John was left gaping at the empty space in front of him. He stared, dumbfounded, and unable to say a single word.

In a daze, John then went back to the flat, forgetting entirely about the milk again.


	2. Just Another Adventure?

**Hello everyone! This is the second chapter of my first fanfiction ever. It's more Ten/Rose-orientated though, so sorry, but it had to be done. I'm still open to alien name suggestions, just so you know :) Please comment!**

* * *

This has got to be the worst Tardis trip Rose has ever had in her entire life.

Rose could hardly keep her balance as the Doctor fussed about the console, yelling at ninety miles an hour.

"The Salox should be close. I've just got to increase engine power and stabilize focus jets and maybe tweak that position fulcrum before trying to even trying to move the Tardis off-center-Ow!" the Doctor yelled. Rose had lost her grip on one of the Tardis' support columns, careening straight into the Doctor's side. The Doctor nearly toppled to the ground.

"If you could drive this thing perhaps with a little more skill, I wouldn't have to collide with you so often, would I?" yelled Rose. She nursed her sore arm, breaking into a grin when she saw the Doctor's face; pained and indignant.

"You know I failed my driving test! Besides I think I'm doing pretty well, considering the circumstances." the Doctor was rubbing his side. Note to self: Rose's elbows were deadly and not to be messed with.

Once again, the Doctor's attention was grabbed by the console screens. He started to mutter again, when Rose poked him in the ribs.

"Oi! There ain't any buttons where you're poking that can make this ride any less bumpy, so quit it!" the Doctor said, annoyed. Rose pursed her lips.

"You still didn't tell me where you were going to bring me to! Normally your trips aren't as bad, so I'd reckon some explaining is in order?"

Not taking his eyes off the screens, the Doctor spoke. "We were going to see Atlantis at its peak, but the Tardis detected the presence of the Salox lingering somewhere where we were passing through, so immediate change of plans."

"The Salox?"

"Ancient species. Great and magnificent and in their prime, until the Time War." the Doctor's face was expressionless.

"The Salox used to possess a great wealth of information about everyone, everything, every planet, every galaxy, every time." Rose's eyes widened.

"Every time? So they can see the future?"

"Not exactly. You see, the reason why the Salox knew so much was because they assimilated knowledge. They're a race with unique psychic skills. Usually they can simply look into your head and get what they want without harm. Simple clairvoyance stuff. However, the Salox can also remove knowledge or memory. They get there inside your heads and suck the knowledge out of you. It usually hurts like crazy if they did it by force. Some baby Salox might accidentally assimilate their parents, sucking out all that knowledge and memory into themselves, leaving their parents witless." Rose shuddered.

"How come a race that terrible can be 'great'? I mean won't they be like feared by everyone, since they can just take away your memory and stuff?"

"Well... Not everyone wants to remember things that they have done."

Rose looked at the Doctor, understanding.

"That's how they live. They offer to take away certain memories, and in return either get information from the customers' heads, or money. The information can then be bartered off for other stuff. Don't worry, they usually don't go around eating people's minds. You see, the Salox have got to get verbal permission in order to 'edit' your memory. So they're actually a very gentle race. You know, more often than not, Salox parents actually feed their children their knowledge and memory voluntarily, as a way of passing down information and history. That way, each generation of Salox grows more and more intelligent."

An explosion rocked the Tardis. Rose almost hit the Doctor again. The Doctor actually flinched, and looked embarrassed.

"What happened to them?"

"After the War, we all thought the Salox were wiped out. Their planet was destroyed. However my scans are picking up on Salox brain signals here on Earth, and it appears that we are very close to wherever it is right now..."

A tremendous boom knocked both the Doctor and Rose to the ground, and they clung onto the railings for dear life as the Tardis spun out of control. Rose squeezed her eyes shut, promising to make the Doctor pay after all this. The Doctor, sprawled on the floor, reached out and quickly slammed down on a button.

All at once, there was silence as the Tardis shuddered to a stop.

Coughing, the Doctor picked himself up and started towards the door. He opened a door shakily and peered outside.

"Hmm."

"What? What is it?" Rose was sitting on the other side of the room. She saw the Doctor stick his head through the door, from which gentle light was streaming through.

The Doctor stuck his head back in. His face was puzzled and grim as he returned to the console.

"No idea where we are presently. You can take a look outside, if you want, but I wouldn't recommend it." he glanced at the screens and turned a dial.

Rose went to the door, left ajar. She could smell acrid smoke, and a certain hint of something. Something... metallic.

Nervously, Rose looked outside.

It was a war zone. Or to be more precise, what's left of a war zone. Rose could distinctly see a burning tank lying somewhere to her left. There were the remains of what once might have been a house further down. And everywhere Rose looked, there were bodies. Human, soldier, bodies. Rose's stomach churned. This was Earth. But where? And when?

Rose could hear the Doctor groan in frustration.

"The Salox aren't here anymore. They must've travelled further off... No no no!" the Doctor slammed the palm of his hand on the edge of the screen. "Behave!"His eyes were darting furiously. Finally he let go of the abused screen. "I've lost the signal. Just great." he ran a hand through his hair, thinking hard.

Rose wasn't paying attention to the Doctor at all. She'd spotted a strange glow emitting from a nearby trench. She turned around, mouth opened, when she saw him muttering to himself, hair sticking up wildly, looking a lot like a lunatic. Rose then decided that maybe she could handle this one herself. After all, she was only going to take a look.

* * *

"...Maybe if we went back into the Vortex, we might be able to get a better signal! Yes! Well, worth a shot anyway. Rose, let's get outa here... Rose?" the Doctor pulled down on a lever, and the Tardis hummed. The Doctor turned around, and blinked. No Rose. He spun around, calling out her name.

"Rose?"

The Doctor's eyes rested on the open door.

"Rose!"

* * *

Rose picked her way gingerly towards the trench, feeling sick. Whatever happened here? Rose tried her best not to look at anything in particular.

The orange glow was fading fast. It wasn't like a fire; it was a steady glow, with a slight buzzing sound that grew louder as she approached it. Rose reached the edge of the trench, her shoes scuffing up dust. She peered into the gloom.

What she saw made her gasp.

* * *

The Doctor saw Rose walking towards the glowing trench. He quickly closed the Tardis doors and hurried towards her.

"Rose! You get back here this instant!" the Doctor yelled, sounding a lot like Rose's mother, Jackie. His voice sounded strangely muted in the dead atmosphere. He saw Rose look back and shush him hurriedly. It was obvious that Rose felt extremely uncomfortable standing among so many of the dead.

"Come on, I've found something!"

"Yeah, I think I kinda guessed it." the Doctor reached the trench and looked down. He whistled.

It was alien, definitely. The object was triangular in shape, with a large piece broken at the top. It looked metallic, and was steaming.

"Can I touch it?"

"Not unless you want to burn yourself." the Doctor replied. "Hang on a moment; I've got just the thing." the Doctor dashed back into the Tardis. Rose watched the object. It had strange markings carved deep into its surface that looked suspiciously like Gallifreyan. The markings were glowing a deep golden hue, which was fading as it cooled slowly. The object seemed to have been smashed violently into the ground, for large chunks of earth lay dislodged all around it. Rose turned to see the Doctor return, wearing a large pair of kitchen mittens.

"Step 9, take the cake out of the oven." the Doctor rubbed his mittened hands together, imitating a cooking show Rose was watching a few days before, causing her to giggle. The Doctor then jumped into the trench to study the object.

"Time Lord technology." he announced, tracing the markings with a mittened hand. "it seems to me, like someone had just taken a Gallifreyan transport vessel and adapted it for space travel!" the Doctor picked up the object, excitement in his voice. He clambered back up to where Rose was waiting, giving her a close-up view of the object.

They walked back to the Tardis. It seemed so out of place, a blue box in the middle of a ravaged battleground. Rose realised the Doctor was speaking again.

"I think, that instead of transporting physical beings, this vessel once held the consciousness of the Salox. There are very distinctive signs pointing to this. Ingenious! Pity it's broken though... Maybe the Salox crashed? But why did it choose to land here? Not exactly the most welcoming of places for extraterrestrial life forms, unless..." the Doctor's eyes widened, his grin fading.

"Unless the Salox found some use here on Earth... Oh! No, no!" the Doctor spun on his heels, eyes closed in agitation. Suddenly, Rose understood.

"Unless the Salox decided that humans would make perfect hosts for themselves." she completed, and saw the Doctor nod. They re-entered the Tardis.

"The Salox needs a physical body, without which their consciousness would decay and disappear. What better opportunity than to inhibit the lovely humans while they attempt to fix their ship? Which, by the looks of it, is going to be near impossible," the Doctor placed the now-cool object on the Tardis console. He pressed some buttons and activated its scanners.

"Yep, definitely damaged and unrepairable. If we could find the broken pieces, there's still a chance of fixing it. But scanners aren't picking up on any more of the vessel. Strange... Let's just hope the Salox don't get too comfortable with human minds while we figure this one out... Trust the humans to go start a stupid war and hit the Salox by accident." the Doctor grumbled. A beep attracted his attention.

Rose sighed. Seems like the world's threatened by aliens again. She glanced at the Doctor, and was surprised to see his face paling.

"Ate something wrong?" Rose joked, but grew serious as she saw the Doctor swallow nervously.

"Did I happen to mention, that Salox consciousness are also extremely prone to...well...accidentally creating annoying Rifts in Space?"

"What?!"

"We are, presently, standing in an entirely different universe."


	3. Words of Wisdom

**Hello again! Sorry it took so long; I had to split the chapter up because it was getting oh so long :P I'm afraid you won't hear from me for awhile now, as I've got major exams coming up. Gotta focus :)  
Still, hope you** **enjoy this one! Promise the Doctor and Sherlock will meet very very soon, just... not yet ;)**

* * *

As John entered the flat, he wasn't surprised to hear Lestrade in their rooms again. Must be a new case.

John could hear Sherlock playing on his violin in that idyllic manner John knew he did only to annoy Mycroft or Lestrade. He could hear snatches of the one-sided conversation, punctuated by persistent violin notes.

"...fifth victim...no signs...physical trauma...thought you... take a look..."

John walked up the stairs quietly, hoping to hear more, when the music stopped abrubtly.

"John, grab your coat. We're going out."

* * *

Sherlock was staring out the cab window, silent in his thoughts.

Lestrade had seemed pretty worked up with this case; he told John about it as Sherlock hailed a cab.

"Five young executives, not related to each other whatsoever, found dead within the last two months. This recent victim was found with similar signs; burst eye vessels, bloody nose, ears and mouth, so we've got a pretty good feeling she's linked in all this too. Take a look at the autopsy reports for the previous victims."

John took the files, reading them while in the cab.

The brains were a bloody mess, with numerous vessels burst. But what was the most shocking was the size of the brain. It was shrunken and old; not something you would expect to be found in the heads of healthy young adults.

Just what Sherlock would be interested in.

If this was any other typical day with Sherlock, John would have raised his eyebrows at this and be generally really interested in the case. However, this was not a typical day. A certain strange encounter is keeping John sufficiently distracted.

"John, an idiot can tell that something serious is bothering you, and you're simply waiting for me to say something so that you can voice your troubles. I'm only doing so because I would require a fully focused companion on this case. After all, this does involve a certain degree of medical expertise."

John was surprised Sherlock could tell so soon. Sherlock sighed.

"You didn't wear a coat when we left. It's ten degrees and you didn't wear a coat? Your phone just rang twice in your pocket and you didn't answer it. You always answer it... eventually, _especially _if it's Mycroft, and I believe he will be pretty concerned about my manner of conduct at the French embassy, enough to text you once to ask you to check the flat for platinum teeth lying on the mantelpiece, and another time to ask you to tell me that it was the sister, not the husband. Obvious, if you'd ask me." Sherlock appeared to be talking to himself as John absent-mindedly checked his phone.

Sherlock was right. As usual.

Sherlock was looking at John now, his focus directed at him. He continued.

"You were only gone for a while. Six minutes, in fact. You said you wanted to get milk, yet you came back empty-handed. Not because you didn't have money; I already took care of that for you. No... You met someone, didn't you? Six minutes is not enough time for you to reach the store, yet is plenty for an unfriendly encounter to commence, and judging from your face, I would say that I'm correct."

John breathed deeply.

"Sherlock, I-" he hesitated for a while, "there was this man that I met. He seemed to know me, but I swear, I have never seen him in my life!"

"Secret admirer?" Sherlock smirked.

"He had a woman with her, Sherlock."

"How can you be so sure that they're together? Besides, you can never know one's tastes in such matters."

"Sherlock!"

"You're stalling. Tell me exactly what happened."

John glared.

"This man seemed to know me. He looked at me like he expected me to acknowledge him in some way, but I really didn't know him. I think that man was as confused as I was. He then tried really miserably to convince me that it was all a mistake on his part. But he then proceeded to call me by my name! How can someone who mistakes me for someone else still know my name? I asked him who he was and he said he was 'the Doctor', like it was some kind of title, then he went into that stupid blue box of his and just left!" All the confusion of today was turning into panic.

"You're not telling me everything. You wouldn't be in such a state of agitation if an adult came up to you talking gibberish. You fought in Afghanistan; it'll take much more to rattle your nerves."

John barely registered the rare compliment.

"The box bloody vanished, okay? It made this whooshing sound, and vanished in front of my bloody eyes, Sherlock! Along with that man in those absurd sneakers, and the blonde woman who's _obviously _attached to him. All gone!" John yelled, startling the cabby, who promptly eyed him in the mirror.

Sherlock stared at him, his piercing blue eyes scrutinizing his face.

"Fascinating." Sherlock turned back to the window.

John nearly sputtered with rage. Sherlock sighed again, staring outside.

"Let's say this doctor is telling the truth, that he does know you. However, it's obvious that you've yet to know him. We can thus effectively come up with two probable conclusions. One, that you are severely lacking in sleep."

"Or?"

"Or, you've just witnessed an accidental overlapping of time lines."

John scoffed. Sherlock turned to look at him, a ghost of smile dancing on his face.

"Before you start thinking I've gone mental as well, remember who started speaking of disappearing blue boxes," Sherlock looked at John, making sure he had his attention, "now, if we continue on the assumption that this doctor has just crossed time lines, most probably accidental, this indicates that he, in fact, possesses the ability to time travel. Further proving his ability to travel outside our normal perception of time is his apparent disappearing act, which is merely us witnessing him travelling outside of our time line, or something of the equivalent. It's all hypothetical, of course; I'm not exactly an expert in this field."

John blinked, his head whirling.

"You're obviously going to meet this doctor in the future. So all we need to do is wait and see. This future encounter should prove to be interesting."

John gaped. He didn't know what to be more shocked at; the fact that Sherlock's actually raving on about time travel, or that he's actually excited about meeting this guy. Eventually, his bewildered mind decided.

"Wow."

Sherlock's brows furrowed in mild confusion.

"What?"

"You actually admitted to not being an expert in something."

"Don't get used to it."


	4. Seeing Double

**Here it is, finally. Enjoy :)**

* * *

The cab finally stopped in front of a row of respectable looking houses. The one they were looking for was unmistakable; what with the swarm of police cordoning off the area.

Sherlock strode right through the mass of people, ignoring Donovan's protests. John followed after, shooting Donovan an apologetic look. She spotted him and her icy glare softened to one of... pity?

"Seriously, John. Get a job and find your own flat. Freak's gonna be the death of you one day." John smiled politely, quickly turning to walk into the house.

The first thing that struck John was the _smell_. It stunk of organic rot and sweat, a sickly combination that made his stomach churn. John caught up to Sherlock, silently grateful for not eating breakfast that day. Lestrade approached them, his usual annoyed look apparent on his face.

"Victim's Mary Carper. Aged 21, studied at the local university. No living relatives, save for her elder sister. Carol Carper. This is the family home; they've lived here all their lives," Lestrade flipped the pages of his notebook, scanning the lines quickly, "Carol Carper is 25 years old, working a full-time job at... Torchwood Institute. We received a call, presumably from her."

Sherlock nodded, his eyes on everything but Lestrade.

"And the body?"

"Upstairs. You've got 15 minutes."

Sherlock bounded up the stairs, John following closely behind. He had a slight frown on his face. Torchwood? The name was vaguely familiar, but no matter how hard John tried, he could not for the life of him place why.

* * *

"Different universe, huh. Why am I not surprised..." Rose sat in the console chair, watching the Doctor fly about the console room, pressing buttons and turning dials at a furious pace.

"Not to worry. I've learnt from my mistake last time and placed an automatic coordinate saver in the Tardis system, so when something like this happens again, the Tardis saves the coordinates of the last place we've landed, hence establishing a working connection between this universe and our own universe. So, if I work this fast enough, the temporary link should be strong enough for us to launch ourselves through the gap, and into the proper Vortex, where the Tardis can stabilise. Aren't I just brilliant?"

Rose laughed. She looked at the Doctor's beaming, proud face and felt so happy. She didn't actually mind if they were trapped in a different universe; so long as she had her Doctor, she'll be alright.

The Doctor looked up, arching his eyebrow quizzically at Rose.

"Well don't just sit there looking pretty! Help me press this button-Not now! Once I've established a stable pathway through to the Vortex, I'll need you to press that. It'll let the Tardis feed some of its energy to seal off this Rift. Don't want anything coming through, now do we?"

Rose nodded. She took special care not to get in the way of the Doctor as he prepped up. He turned a dial slowly, keeping both eyes fixed on a screen. Slowly, the Gallifreyan circles aligned themselves and the Tardis hummed.

"Brilliant!" The Doctor dashed off to close the Tardis doors. He slammed them shut- and froze. He sniffed the air suspiciously. Rose looked sharply at the Doctor's still figure. He stood behind the doors, silent in his thoughts. Rose called out softly to him.

"Doctor? Doctor, what's the probl-" The Doctor shushed her. His head was cocked to one side, as if listening intently for something. He turned slowly around to face Rose.

"Do you feel that? Something familiar, something wonderful... but wrong. So wrong..." His face was inscrutable. Rose was starting to feel a little frightened.

Suddenly, urgent beeping broke the tense silence. The Doctor snapped to focus and ran over, turning a nearby crystal ball and pushing down the lever.

"Gotta go, connection's fading! Rose, hit the button and hold on tight, we've got a bumpy ride in front of us!" Rose had barely pushed the button down, when she was launched against the railings as the Tardis seemed to plummet straight downwards, then sideways almost simultaneously. The ruckus created by the Tardis barely covered her and the Doctor's yells of fear and exhilaration. Well, just fear, for Rose. The Tardis jerked forwards, sending Rose flying towards the Tardis console. She twisted sideways, barely missing a rather painful collision, smack into the Doctor. They tumbled to the ground, earning a slight 'oof' from the Doctor. He pulled Rose to her feet and managed to plant her firmly in the console chair.

"Hold on!" He grabbed a hammer and slammed down unceremoniously on several pieces of equipment.

That didn't seem to work, as the Tardis suddenly bucked and rolled a full 360 degrees. Rose clung onto the chair for dear life. Her grip was weakening. The Doctor reached over and flung his hammer desperately at a switch. Multiple alarms went off at once. For once, the Doctor actually looked scared. Luckily, the Tardis finally stabilised, and the alarms quietened.

Rose looked at the Doctor. They were both breathing heavily. Rose was trembling, and she didn't trust her legs enough to stand up and hit the Doctor for good measure. The Doctor walked over to look at a screen. He turned to look at Rose, a smile breaking across his face.

"Well, that went well."

Rose punched him in the arm.

* * *

Despite being to countless crime scenes, John was still taken aback by the sight that greeted him. The dead woman's room was pretty decent; she had a table at a corner that was covered in books and paper, most of them covered with drawings and maps of coastlines. Plastered on the walls were diagrams and flowcharts. The room gave John the impression that Mary Carper was a hard-working student.

Propped up on the messy bed was what was once Mary Carper. The body was severely emaciated, with dried up blood leaking from its face. Its hair was a straggly mess, its eyes half open, staring lifelessly at a laptop lying on its lap.

Sherlock wasted no time getting to work. He examined her hands and felt her clothes. He then pried the computer off her stiff fingers and gestured to the body, his eyes fixed on the laptop.

"All yours, John. Tell me what you make of it."

John got to his knees and scrutinised the body.

"Okay... Dead for at least... 6 hours, eyes... bloodshot, traces of dried blood in nose and mouth, oh and in the ear cavities too... Yep, should be one of them..." John turned to see Sherlock fixated on the laptop screen, a puzzled look on his face.

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" He looked up distractedly.

"What is it?" Sherlock handed the laptop to John wordlessly.

John's heart nearly stopped. There he was, the strange man he met today. The doctor. John looked up at Sherlock with a mixture of confusion and, well, confusion.

"This was pulled from a Torchwood file. Ms Carper was looking at it in her final moments. I can't seem to access any other files; the whole thing's jammed. Whoever this person is, he must be very important." Sherlock looked at John, thinking hard. He then strode out the room, heading back downstairs.

John stared at the picture. It was grainy, showing only the doctor's face. He obviously didn't know he was being observed. Without thinking, John closed the lid and went down, laptop still in his hand.

* * *

Rose peered over the Doctor's shoulder, watching him attach several wires to the alien transport device that they had picked up from the other universe.

"What are you doing?" she asked, not sure if she would even understand the answer. The Doctor stopped and gestured to the device.

"See this? I couldn't find the other piece, which means someone must've taken it. Now, pretend that this part of the device we now have is the lock, and the other is a um... what do you call it? A key! They fit together perfectly, and once the controller, that's the Salox, have contact with either piece, both emit a unique frequency that links them together. I know the Salox have not found the key yet, otherwise the Tardis would have been yanked straight back into the other universe, pulled by the sheer force between lock and key. So, what I'm doing is to link this piece, the lock, into the Tardis. Hopefully with that extra connection, the Tardis will be able to locate where the key's been taken too. Kind of like high-tech lock picking, really..." the Doctor was hovering one end of a wire over the lock.

Suddenly, it was yanked out of his hand, burying deep into the alien lock. The Doctor then took another end, which similarly launched itself into the lock. The Tardis trembled and the lights went off, the faint blue glow of the central column casting an eerie glow through the console room. Rose looked at the Doctor and saw his face barely illuminated, dark shadows sharply contorting his features. Rose could feel the Doctor's worry. Linking a totally new and alien device to your precious ship, not knowing what will happen probably has that kind of effect on people- in the Doctor's case, Time Lords.

The Doctor flipped a switch and stood with his hands on the console, fingers drumming impatiently. Finally, the light came back on and a faint buzzing sound started. It was from the lock.

They both breathed a sigh of relief. The Doctor walked round and started up the Tardis. He frowned at a screen.

"The Tardis has found a lock on the other universe. We're gonna launch ourselves back through a Rift the _key _created. I wonder how it did that? The Salox consciousness must've found resources. Ah well then. Rose, you got a hold on anything?"

Rose was clutching the railings firmly. She nodded, beaming at him.

"Always got you to grab too, just in case!"

The Doctor pouted at her. He shifted the lock and pushed down on the lever.

"Other universe, here we come!" the Doctor yelled, laughing along with Rose as the Tardis plummeted down again and shot off.

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Lestrade asked expectantly.

Sherlock was checking the answering machine. No missed calls, no messages. He shrugged.

"Check the sister."

Both John and Lestrade stared blankly.

"Ms Carper junior's severely emaciated. The extent of deterioration of her body must have taken significant time, yes?" John nodded. "In her condition, it would've been nearly impossible for her to move about unaided. She's a university student; her situation would imply that she's skipping a lot of lessons. So what's stopping anyone from asking about her? Nothing on the answering machine. They couldn't have been deleted; there was a significant layer of dust lying above it."

"She could've had a phone," Lestrade interrupted.

"Even if she had it, why the hell did she starve herself at home? Wouldn't the elder sister have done anything?" John said. Sherlock turned and flashed him a small smile. He continued.

"Precisely. Mary Carper was looking at Torchwood files when she died. Torchwood is where Carol Carper works. The victim was a geography student, if her books are to be trusted. Why the sudden interest in Torchwood, a government institute?" Sherlock glanced at John. He understood the double meaning.

"The victim was starved. Starved and looking at restricted files belonging to where her sibling worked at. And where is Carol Carper?"

Lestrade's frown deepened.

"You said you received a call informing you of the incident. If the sister _had _found the body, where is she now?"

A string of foul oaths followed out of Lestrade's mouth as he pulled a police officer over.

"Have you interviewed Carol Carper yet?" the officer shook his head.

"No sir, we're searching for her now."

"You'll have more luck at Torchwood itself. Though I doubt you'll even be able to find it." Sherlock said.

He turned and was about to send a text when he spotted a figure in the distance. He sighed dramatically.

"Look who's here, the village idiot."

John could literally smell the sour stench of annoyance emanating from Anderson and Sherlock as they neared.

"Finished wrecking my crime scene, _Sherlock_?" drawled Anderson.

"It's not your crime scene, _Anderson_. And I'd suggest you break it off with _Mrs _Finnemore. Her husband's a very possessive man."

John fought to keep a straight face while he watched, fascinated, as Anderson's face turned a shade of purple more commonly seen in asphyxiation victims. Suddenly, his eyes locked onto the laptop in John' hands.

"Where did you get that?"

John tightened his grip.

"It's um...mine."

Anderson eyed him suspiciously.

"Your laptop's pink with a picture of a glowing sunset glued on its cover?"

Sherlock glanced sharply at the laptop, then at John.

"You-" A loud shout interrupted the potentially disastrous conversation. With a chill John realised it was Lestrade. He was shouting Sherlock's name.

* * *

"Is this some kind of joke?" Lestrade demanded, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. They were standing right outside the house.

"Who was it?"

"He-you- No, can't be. Sherlock you-" Lestrade started to splutter. He looked to John and to Sherlock again, getting more and more confused.

"He looked exactly like me, am I right?" Sherlock asked. For a while Lestrade couldn't say a thing. His mouth opened and closed, and when it finally dawned on him that Sherlock wasn't joking, Lestrade nodded his head.

"Where did he go? Focus, Lestrade! Where, did, he, go?"

Lestrade cleared his throat and pointed. Sherlock looked up, his eyes vacant for a moment. He then blinked.

"He took a taxi. If I'm not wrong, he's headed for Baker Street. Where you saw the blue box," Sherlock looked at John, a thin smile on his face, "Time lines, John!"

John gulped. Sherlock was already sprinting away. He prepared to follow when a hand stopped him. It was Lestrade. His face was white from the shock, but his expression showed he was back in business.

"John, that person, whoever it was, gave me a message. It was for you." John's eyes widened. For him? He turned to look at the fast disappearing figure of Sherlock. The message could wait. Sherlock might need him. He turned back.

"I-I'll call you. Tell me later!"

"John, wait-It might be important!" But it was already too late. John ran off, slowly catching up to the consulting detective.

* * *

Sherlock rounded another corner, racing past an alley and skidded to a stop. He wasn't exactly sure where John had seen the blue box, but it had to be somewhere here. Where was John? Sherlock spun about. No sign of John. He'll catch up. Sherlock scanned the roads. If that really was his future self, he should be here just about now.

But then again, if that _was _his future self, wouldn't he realise that and not come back to Baker Street immediately? Sherlock's doubts were cut short when he spotted a black taxi pull up further down the road. A chill ran down his spine as he saw who was inside. It was him. His face, his clothing, his mannerisms. But wait- Sherlock's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. He'd spied his future self's hand as it handed the cabby his fare. It was shaking-badly.

As Sherlock watched, his future self stepped out and slammed the door shut. His face was deathly pale, and Sherlock could see that he was sweating profusely. Was he shot? Sherlock frowned. No visible tears in clothing, shoes were very worn, though. Must've been running a lot. From what? Sherlock watched the other man as he steadied himself and started to stride towards an alley further down from where he was crouching. Sherlock quickly stood up and started to follow stealthily behind.

Suddenly, the other man tensed up. He then started to run.

"No, no," murmured Sherlock, as he picked up his own pace, turning into the alley.

There he was. And there... it was. The mysterious blue box. Sherlock's mind started to race as he analysed it. Old fashioned 1950s police telephone box. Replica, obviously. Mechanical humming; machine. Illuminated from the inside; people operated from the inside. Sherlock quickly cut himself short as he saw his future self stumble for the door.

"Oh no you don't," Sherlock quickly reached for the other man's shoulder to spin him around and-

**_Thunk_**

Sherlock was aware of a painful, dull, concussive blow to his head. His mind started to buzz loudly and his vision blurred. The last thing he consciously thought was that the weapon was metal, flat and heavy. He then collapsed to the ground, knocked out cold.

* * *

"Hmm, that's interesting."

"What is?" Rose asked, arms still curled around the railings. The Tardis had slowed down its flight a few minutes ago, but she didn't trust the Doctor's driving skills enough to let go of the railings quite yet.

She heard a beeping coming from the console. As the Doctor tended to it, she noticed him slowly breaking into a large grin.

"Good old ship, you! The Tardis has caught the scent of the Salox! Changing flight path... now." The Doctor spun a dial and pushed a lever all the way down. The Tardis jerked and flew off.

The Doctor turned to look at Rose.

"Rose, in a few moments we are going to land in the other universe. Now, I have absolutely no idea what we'll see, but please promise me you'll stick close and not wander off." The Doctor looked deep into Rose's eyes, his expression serious. Rose nodded and smiled.

"Yeah, sure!" The Doctor nodded and grinned back. He turned to adjust the controls. "Alright. From what I can see, we're landing smack in alternate-London. Funny how we're always landing in England..."

* * *

John huffed in annoyance. He had lost sight of Sherlock. No matter; he recognised the area and quickly ran into the alley where he'd last seen the blue box.

"Bloody hell!"

The box was back, same as always. But what was that-

"Sherlock!" John rushed forward and gently turned the unresponsive body. Still breathing, thank god. John looked about. Nobody. He stared at the box in front of him, anger rising within him.

"Whoever did this, you come out right now!" John bellowed. He was about to stand up when a strong gust of wind made him fall back. That strange noise again. The box started to fade away.

"No, no, no!" John ran forward, hand outstretched. He lunged forward, and grabbed thin air. It was gone.

Groaning loudly with frustration, John turned to Sherlock. He shook the unconscious detective. No response. John sighed. He bent to carry Sherlock when a familiar sound attracted his attention, annoyance and anger.

* * *

"Perfect landing! The Tardis found a Rift and we snuck right in. You're a brilliant ship, aren't you, you old girl?" The Doctor stroked the Tardis console lovingly. He waited for Rose to stand up before heading for the door excitedly.

"Who knows what we'll find in this new universe. Imagine the people we'll meet! Will they be smarter? Richer? Poorer? More cultured? Hopefully not too rude, like me sometimes-" The Doctor stepped out into the other universe, full of anticipation, where he was being rudely interrupted by an angry fist slamming quickly into contact with his face. The Doctor lost his balance and was knocked to the ground.

"Doctor! Are you okay? Oh my god..." Rose was slightly relieved to see the Doctor sit up, groaning. His hair was sticking up madly now.

"Whatever did I ever do to you?" he squeaked, rubbing a hand over his dazed face. He scrambled shakily to his feet and took a good look at his assailant. He was a blonde, furious man of average height. The Doctor leaned sideways to see an unconscious man on the floor. He was pale, a shock of unruly black hair framing his sharp features. The Doctor noted that the fallen man had on a thick woollen coat, which he thought looked fantastic. He took a step towards the unconscious man, to be blocked immediately by the blonde man. The Doctor put both hands in front of him, and nudged Rose to do the same.

"We're not here to hurt you. Your friend there, is he alright?"

The blonde man looked at him strangely.

"I-I don't know. He might have been drugged or something, I don't know."

"He might be injured. Let me try and help your friend." Slowly, the blonde man nodded. The Doctor knelt beside the black-haired man and took out his sonic screwdriver.

"I'm just gonna scan him. Will only take a moment."

As the Doctor scanned the unconscious man, he could smell a certain hint of something. Something intelligent, something buzzing in the air. The Salox. The Doctor shook his head. That could wait.

"Nothing serious, just a really hard knock on the head. We'll just bring him home, put some ice on that and wait for him to wake up," the Doctor stood up and held out his hand, "I'm the Doctor, by the way, and this is Rose. Nice to meet you... I think. Why did you punch me?"

The blonde man continued to glare at them both. And to their immense surprise, he spoke,

"Yeah, I know. You two travel in time and hit people on the head and pretend nothing happened. Sherlock's pretty much predicted that this would happen."

Rose made a sound. The Doctor gaped at him.

"What-You-You're-" The Doctor tried.

"Don't pretend you don't know me! Saw you this morning. You said-"

"No no I think you're mistaken," the Doctor pointed at Rose, then at himself, "we just got here! First time in our very long existence! Ever! To be punched by you!"

Rose sniggered. The Doctor leaned forward to study him.

"Unless... you're not so mistaken after all... What _did_ I tell you?" the man opened his mouth to answer.

"No no, don't tell me. Sorry, don't want to spoil things for myself. Tell me your name." He winked at Rose.

"I'm-I'm John Watson-"

"Haha! Brilliant! Dr John H. Watson, associate of one Mister Sherlock Holmes! Nice to meet you!" the Doctor pumped John's hand furiously. Rose stood there, letting the Doctor's words sink in. Sherlock, Holmes?

"That's _Sherlock Holmes_?" Rose blurted, pointing at the prostrate figure on the ground. The blonde man- John Watson- nodded.

"You've read my blog too, then? Should have expected weirdos like you two to read my stuff too. But who am I to judge; living with a weirdo 24/7."

"Yeah, we've... read your blog. Nice blog." The Doctor bent to lift Sherlock off the alley ground. John joined in to help.

"So, um, 221B Baker Street, right?" Rose ventured. John nodded, much to Rose's delight. Rose fell back to the Doctor, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson!" she whispered.

"I know!" the Doctor whispered back.

"But he's... unconscious! Not very... impressive, is it?" Rose murmured.

"Whoever hit him must've been really sneaky," the Doctor replied, grinning.

They giggled.

* * *

**Reviews are always welcome.**


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